


The Rewards of Death

by Elsajeni



Category: The Hobbit (2012) RPF
Genre: Community: hobbit_kink, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 21:18:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsajeni/pseuds/Elsajeni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Look, I... are you always like this, with death scenes?"</p>
<p>"Of course not," Richard snaps, opening his eyes again to see Dean looking up at him with concern; he isn't sure himself whether he means <i>Of course not, I'm a professional</i> or <i>Of course not, how often do you think I fall in love with my fucking co-stars</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rewards of Death

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Не торопись, костлявая, ко мне](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5113721) by [AndreyVas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreyVas/pseuds/AndreyVas)



> For [this prompt](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/4307.html?thread=10453459#t10453459) on hobbit_kink: "Richard/Aidan/Dean; One of their death scenes is a little too realistic looking for his lovers to watch."

It's a simple enough scene to shoot, at least for Richard. His entire script amounts to "turn around, look horrified, run toward Aidan, make sure you don't get there before Dean does." It really should not be difficult.

Which makes it all the more frustrating that he's now fucked it up three times in a row.

"Sorry," he says for something like the millionth time, "sorry, I just... I don't know what's got into me."

"It's all right," Peter says, genial and calm as ever, which Richard finds even _more_ infuriating — he's already cursing himself internally, and he'd appreciate it if someone outside his own head would join in. "Let's take a few minutes, shall we? Be back here in fifteen."

Richard grimaces, and turns, and stalks off the set. _I ought to say thanks_ , a part of him thinks — that's the sensible, professional part of him, the same part that's reining him in from actually flinging Thorin's axe down on the ground and stamping his feet like a child — but he's much more focused on the part of him that's thinking, _Idiot. You knew you couldn't handle this role, you **knew** you weren't ready for it, look what a mess you've made of it..._

"Hey." A hand lands on his shoulder from behind, interrupting his train of thought; he turns to snap at the intrusion and then stops, embarrassed, when he sees it's Dean.

Dean studies him for a second, then tilts his head to one side and grins. "About to take my head off, weren't you?" he asks, with a laugh. "Come on, it's no big deal. Think of how many times Aidan's got the giggles in the middle of a take, and they haven't thrown him out yet. You just need a minute to get focused."

"Very helpful," Richard says crossly, and shakes Dean's hand off. "Get lost and let me focus in peace, then."

He only makes it a step or two before Dean catches him by the elbow and steps in front of him, frowning. "Richard. Honestly. What's the matter?"

"What's the — I keep fucking up, is what!" It comes out as a shout, and he grimaces, glances around to make sure he hasn't attracted too much attention.

Dean just rolls his eyes. "Right, which you _never do_ , which is why I'm asking. What's going on?"

Richard glares and opens his mouth to say something else cross; before he can speak, though, there's a cheerful shout from behind him, and he turns to see Aidan trotting toward them. He's still in his death makeup, of course — face pale, decorated all over with cuts and scrapes and bruises, a couple of arrow-shafts stuck to his armor as if embedded in the flesh beneath, and fairly drenched in fake blood — and Richard feels his back stiffen, can't seem to catch his breath for a moment.

Beside him, Dean looks back and forth between him and Aidan, and says, quietly, " _Oh_ ," and that's enough to startle him back into movement; he shuts his eyes, turns his head away.

"Something wrong?" Aidan's voice comes from right beside him, and another hand lands on his back. Richard shakes his head, still keeping his eyes shut, and after a moment he feels Aidan step around in front of him, taking him by the shoulders; when he speaks again, there's sincere worry in his voice. "Seriously, are you all right?"

"Get out of his face a minute," Dean murmurs from his other side; he can feel the two of them shifting around, though they both keep their hands on him, and after a moment Dean says, "It's all right, he's behind you. Look, I... are you always like this, with death scenes?"

"Of course not," Richard snaps, opening his eyes again to see Dean looking up at him with concern; he isn't sure himself whether he means _Of course not, I'm a professional_ or _Of course not, how often do you think I fall in love with my fucking co-stars_.

"I'm _special_ ," Aidan puts in from behind him, gleefully, and leans around his shoulder to pull a face at Dean, who puts on a mock frown and says, "Is it just him, then? Aw, Richard, think of my feelings."

Richard sighs and puts a hand over his face. "You're not dead enough," he says irritably, and gets a snort of laughter from both of them in response as he reddens and tries to clarify, "I mean, it's not... I don't like seeing you made up like you're hurt, either, but that's easier, I can get into that protective-uncle space. But seeing you, either of you, dead..." His voice trembles, and he breaks off, shaking his head.

Both his lovers move at the same moment, Dean reaching for his hand and Aidan, behind him, stepping closer and gripping him tightly by the shoulders (about as close as he can get to a hug under the circumstances — can't risk ruining his makeup, can't risk smearing blood all over Richard's back).

"Listen," Dean says, looking intently up at him, "we just have to get through it three times and then we're done for today, right? That's not so much. I know you can do it."

"Yeah," Aidan chimes in, in what's instantly recognizable as his I've Got A Brilliant Idea tone, " _and_ , how about this, if you get three good takes in a row, me and Dean will give you a reward."

Dean rolls his eyes. "He's forgotten you can't see him," he informs Richard, "and he's waggling his eyebrows."

"Somehow I'd guessed that," Richard replies dryly, and shrugs out of both of their grips. "Listen, I'm going to take a walk before we start back up, see if I can't get myself together. I'll see you in a bit."

He heads off in a wide circle, past the rows of trailers and back around; halfway through, he finds his stride turning into a stomp, and his face settling into a scowl, and a few minutes later it's Thorin, not Richard, who walks back onto the set.

He nearly freezes up again on the first take — listens for the shout behind him, turns, sees Kili ( _Aidan, Aidan's hurt_ , the mostly-suppressed Richard part of his brain puts in, frantic and stupid with instinctive fear; _Shut up_ , he tells it sternly) stagger and fall, and for a split second can't remember what he's meant to do. Then, at last, he's moving, a very dwarvish charge, slow but unstoppable, and from there it's a perfect take, and the next two are easier yet.

* * *

By the time they make it back to the hotel, he's entirely forgotten Aidan's offer of a reward, focused instead on getting a shower and getting to bed — it's another early call tomorrow, and if there's one thing that makes him feel his age, it's the short sleep he's been getting lately.

The shower helps; he runs it as hot as he can stand, feels the muscles of his back relax as the heat seeps into them. Then he gets out, and steps out of the bathroom still toweling his hair, and nearly jumps out of his skin at the sight of Dean and Aidan both lounging on his bed.

"How did you—" he begins, and Aidan shakes his head — Christ, he must have been in a rush to get here, his hair's a disaster and there's still a smear of fake blood across his cheek — and holds up a keycard between two fingers.

"Come on," he says reproachfully, "you _gave_ me this. Shouldn't have done it if you didn't want me using it."

"And we did promise you a reward," Dean puts in, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "Aren't you going to come and get it?"

Ten minutes later, Aidan's clever tongue working up and down his cock and Dean sucking a mark onto his collarbone, something occurs to him, and he cranes his neck to look down at them, says with a grin, "You know, we — ah, Christ, do that again — we have Fili's death scene tomorrow. I don't know _how_ I'll get through it."

"I'm sure we'll think of something," Dean breathes against his neck; Aidan gives a _hmm_ that sounds like agreement and swallows him to the root, and Richard groans and lets his head fall back on the bed.

He could get to _like_ death scenes.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my God I never write RPF what has this fandom done to me.


End file.
